


Sunrise

by ninjentsie



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ALMOST Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Divorced Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, F/M, M/M, Sad, dead john laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjentsie/pseuds/ninjentsie
Summary: The duel ends rather differently.





	Sunrise

The sun slowly rises over New York City, and Alexander Hamilton wonders if it’ll be the last time he sees the sun. Across from him, Aaron Burr has been waiting for one hour or so for Hamilton to show up. He already has a pistol ready, polishing it with care. Alexander has never seen such a look on his face, of anger and passion and hate. He winces and looks away, getting his pistol from his second. The sky is a swirled canvas of oranges and pinks, white dark blues and purples being way at the top of the sky. Alex looked straight up, admiring the colors. It might be the last time he sees the sky.

His stomach felt sick, and he could almost feel something coming up the back of his throat. It hurt in a way, like an emotional aching at the bottom. Alex took one last at the city across the river. His beautiful New York City, oh God he prayed that he would see it again. Maybe even get to see Eliza again.

“Are you ready?” Aaron called to him. Alex nodded a little, messing with the trigger on his gun. This was the same gun that Philip had used that day. The same gun that he had died while holding, his hands shaking and yet still smiling reassuringly to his mother and father. Alexander shuddered at the memory, and the way Eliza shut him out afterwards. He sniffled and looked at Aaron. The politician glared back, that same hate still flowing through his eyes and veins.

Alexander watched the seconds go and try to sort out things. He prayed they would be. There wasn’t a single bone in Alexander’s body that wanted to aim that gun at Aaron, his first friend, his enemy, his past l… Alexander loaded the gun as the seconds walked back to their firsts, shaking their heads. Alex nodded, adjusting his coat and walking ten paces.

He was shaking, oh God he was shaking. Aaron wouldn’t kill him, right? He wouldn’t do that to him. Why would he? Aaron would never win any other political event if he killed the treasurer of the states. It wasn’t his interest to kill him. Alex took a deep breath, realizing that he was going to be fine. He smiled a little, adjusting his glasses. Oh god, even with the glasses on his shot was going to be so blurry. But he didn’t really wanna shoot Aaron, so it didn’t really matter anyway.

Aaron Burr aimed his gun right at Alexander, and pulled the trigger after the countdown. He heard a gasp, and honestly he wasn’t sure if it was his own or Alexander’s. There was a silence in the thin air, unsettling and horrific. Aaron looked at Alex in fear, his eyes wide and his hands starting to shake. Did he hit him? Is he  _ dead _ ? Is  _ the _  Alexander Hamilton  _ dead _  by his own hand? No… No… Aaron dropped his gun and took a step back. The sight of Alexander trembling, his gun aimed at the sky, a symbol of truce and apologies and forgiveness. Oh god, Aaron felt like he was going to be sick.

“You missed _ ,”  _ Aaron’s second hissed. Alexander lowered his gun and fixed his glasses.

Alex repeated the second, “ _You missed_.” Then he slowly turned to his own second, putting the pistol away in the box. He had to get home to his empty house, cuddling with a pillow and pretending it was somebody that still loved him, at least a little bit. Alexander couldn’t cry here, not in front of Aaron. What would the man tell people? It would be embarrassing for him.

 

_ That cheating bastard cried after the duel, probably sad that he didn’t die, that freak. _

 

Alexander could see the headlines now.

 

_ Aaron Burr tries to shoot treasurer, Alexander Hamilton, in a duel! He misses and the other breaks down in tears because of it! _

 

They would both be ruined.

 

As Alexander pays the doctor and goes to his boat, he watches Aaron, eyes glaring at the ground and fists clenched. Maybe he did want to kill Alexander Hamilton, the man who always progressed further than he did. The thought made Alex shudder. His first friend when he came to America. The man that he had heard so much about, and looked up to, and admired. Now the man that was just an enemy to Alexander. He teared up, turning away from Aaron and getting in the boat. They rowed back across the Hudson. It would be a one hour boat ride or so, maybe an hour and a half.

Too much time to think.

 

* * *

 

 

The empty house bothered him to no end. A long time ago there was a wife here, cooking meals for him and holding his hand. A long time ago there were children here, playing and laughing and waiting for their father to come home and hug them. A long time ago this house was a home to Alexander Hamilton. But now it was just a building.

He trudged up the stairs, each step an ache in his knees. The man was sick, he realized that now. Alexander shuddered as he took his glasses off, putting them in his jacket pocket. His jacket was draped over the chair to his desk, and his shoes were kicked off afterwards. Alexander grabbed a hair brush, sitting down on his floor and brushing his hair.

His body was freezing cold, but everything felt so hot and stuffy on him. Alexander wasn’t sure whether to bundle up or strip down to pants. He decided on the latter, unbuttoning his vest, loosening his cravat, unbuttoning his shirt, discarding his pants. Underwear and socks now, he crawled into bed and hugged the extra pillow. Eliza’s scent still lingered on the pillow, and he imagined that she was still here. Her hair spreading across the pillows like the roots of a tree, and her laugh still filling his ears, and bringing light into the room and Alexander’s life.

This was pathetic. Alexander knew this for a fact, and as much as he hated sinking to such a low it was the only thing he could think of doing. Everything he once had was gone now, and what’s even more pathetic of him is that he wished he had died that morning.

His best friend and partner, John Laurens, had been killed in a gunfight right when the war ended. His wife, Eliza Schuyler, had left him after the son was killed in a duel. His boss, George Washington, had stepped down from his spot as president and now Alexander was thrown to the sharks. His once good friend, Aaron Burr, had just tried to kill him in a duel. His mistress, Maria Reynolds, was back with her abusive husband, James Reynolds. His children, Phillip II, Angie, they had left with Eliza.

Even his own kids were able to see how Alexander had ruined their lives. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent on a mistress to keep an affair a secret, the death of their son that was more than half of Alexander’s fault, and now this. This stupid duel that Alexander wished had killed him. Word would get out about his crying on the boat, the things he whined about to his second on the way back “home”. Alexander prayed the things he said wouldn’t be shared.

His own friends, Gilbert de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan, had left him behind. They saw what he did, and ever since John died they already didn’t think to fondly of Alexander. He did turn him down after all. What was he supposed to say? Of course he loved John but in these times? They would be laughing stalks, maybe even hung for their “crime”.

“No point dwelling on it,” Alex whispered to himself, “What can I do about it now? He’s gone.” His heart ached harder. Could he just end it himself? It would be so much easier than thinking. Alexander didn’t want to think anymore.

A knock at his door surprised him. Eliza? Did she forget something? Jefferson? Was the news already out about the duel? Alexander reluctantly got pants and a shirt on, going to the door. He opened it up and froze, his heart stopping, but the ache only worsened.

“Alexander, could I talk to you for a moment?” Aaron Burr asked. He was still in black like before, but the overcoat was gone, now just leaving him in his under shirt, vest, and cravat. Alexander looked the enemy up and down from his polished shoes to his soft eyes. Why did he look so calm and gentle? This was the complete opposite of his eyes before, so what had changed in him? Alexander wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“I wanted to apologize. May I come in?” Aaron asked, already one foot inside the house. Alexander stepped aside. His house wasn’t exactly messy but it was lifeless, as if nobody had lived in there for years. There were several empty bedroom, and just random things left behind. Eliza’s mug still sat on the table from the morning she left, Alexander didn’t wanna move it. The only sort of messy room was the study and that was because Alexander burned every letter from Maria and James.

He let Aaron inside, closing the door and guiding him to the living room. Aaron sat down in a chair, his hands in his lap and his back straight. That was his uncle’s fault, the boy had been taught to have perfect posture and perfect stride. Just to show him off and impress people, the man had been a monster. Alexander sat across from him, slouching a bit in the chair. He was exhausted, when was the last time he slept well? A better question was when was the last time he slept at all.

Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Are you alright? You looked pretty shaken up from the duel.” He spoke calmly, but both knew the seriousness to the situation. Aaron Burr tried to murder Alexander Hamilton in that duel, and thank God he was a terrible shot. Alexander wasn’t sure what to say for once. Usually he would speak off the top of his head, just saying whatever came to mind. But now he was silent. Aaron, any other time, maybe long ago, would be happy and thankful for the silence.

Alexander took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. He finally decided to just change the subject. If Aaron just wanted to pretend he didn’t try to murder him then fine. “Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?” Alex asked. Burr nodded a bit, mumbling something about water. Alexander nodded and got up from his chair, heading to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Aaron got up and followed, drumming his fingers on the counter.

He asks again, “Alexander, tell me if you’re alright. Are you shaken up? Do we need to talk?” Alexander huffed. His hot headed temper was slowly coming back, the first sign of emotion besides depression that he’s shown since Eliza took the kids and left.

“I don’t know, Aaron. Are we ignoring that you tried to fucking kill me without a second thought? Are we ignoring that you didn’t even walk towards me to apologize? Are we ignoring that this will ruin both of us?” Alexander snapped, setting down a glass of water. It splashed a little, making a small puddle on the table. Aaron got his handkerchief out and cleaned it up. Then he stepped around the island table to get closer to Alexander. He reached the handkerchief up, dabbing at the tears slowly rolling down Hamilton’s cheeks.

He didn’t even realize he had been crying until a sob escaped him. Alex stepped away from Aaron’s touch. If he was going to cry now, he wasn’t going to hold back. Hamilton grabbed the glass and dumped it in the sink. Then he marched back to Aaron and shoved him.

“Are you an idiot?! Do you just hate me so much that you would risk your entire career to kill me?! You hate me so much that you were going to throw away everything you’ve started working for?! God, everybody hates Hamilton! Everybody hates me, right?! Am I a target or something?! Is there a secret cult that everybody is a part of, and I’m worth like $5000 to murder?! Is that it Aaron?!” Alexander huffed and pulled at his own hair. He screamed at the politician, “Is there some  _ game _  everybody likes to play where the objective is to ruin my life?!”

Aaron shouted, “Alexander please calm down! I do not hate you! I was angry, yes, but I assumed you were going to kill me and I can’t let my daughter be an orphan!”

Alexander forced a laugh. He was  _fucking_   ** _stunned_**. “YOUR DAUGHTER IS 23 AND MARRIED I AM SURE SHE’S FINE! MEANWHILE, I HAVE A WIFE AND LIKE 7 KIDS-”

“AND WHERE ARE THEY NOW, ALEXANDER.”

 

Silence settled. Alexander closed his mouth. He grabbed a washcloth from the sink, wiping his face. Aaron winced at what he had said and looked down, ashamed of himself. He set the bar low, and now he had hurt the man he was trying to apologize to. Alexander sobbed into one hand, not sure whether to cover his eyes or his mouth. Burr looked up and offered, “I can leave. I’m sorry I yelled at you. All I wanted was to apologize for what I’ve done, but I see now that you won’t forgive me.”

Alexander quickly replied, “I have forgiven you, I mean, I will if you apologize properly… Besides yelling at me and rubbing my divorce in my face, you’ve been a kind guest.” Aaron laughed a little at the sarcastic attitude. Alexander got a new glass and got another glass of water, handing it to Aaron. But the politician simply put it back on the table and hugged him, his arms wrapping tightly around the immigrant. Alexander hesitated, but wrapped his arms around Aaron, burying his head in his shoulder.

Aaron whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t try to hurt me, Alexander. I do hope that we can be friends again.” Alexander nodded a little, not answering. He was too tired to say anything, it would have to wait. The man could feel himself falling asleep against Aaron’s shoulder. It was a little childish, but he asked Aaron to take him upstairs to his bedroom. Aaron agreed, helping him up the stairs and guiding him back to bed.

He even tucked him in, which made Alex chuckle.


End file.
